


Icarus and the Dawn

by quantumsea



Category: Fallen London | Echo Bazaar, Sunless Sea
Genre: Ramblings, idk first fic, the sun drives us mad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 01:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20519678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumsea/pseuds/quantumsea
Summary: The Sun-Plagued Captain, Aeternitas, has hundreds of the same painting. A hundred golden eyes, etching a thousand words onto her skin. She doesn't know what they mean but she can hear them.A closer look will suffice, she decides (did she really decide for herself?), her curiosity taking over all rational thought.And so, Icarus flies closer to the Sun.





	Icarus and the Dawn

_ [the sun's eyes.] _  
A thousand glowing eyes stare into her soul. It feels unbearably warm, almost burning, and she can't run. She can't close her eyes. She can't stop staring. The eyes sear over every inch of her skin, but she accepts it. Something tells her to accept the attention and take its gift.  
  
Tiny conflagrant hands claw up from her feet. Like a million fire ants, they make their way up to her hands, her neck, her face _ her eyes they're clawing at her eyes she can't close them she can't look away her eyes are burning so bright so warm-- _  
  
The sun's blazing wheels don't stop spinning.

* * *

  
_ [awakening.] _  
She wakes up in the middle of the night, wide-eyed and dripping in sweat and tears. There is a lingering, scorching pain in her eyes, and a prickling sensation all over her body. Unknown forces pull at every strand of her hair, a sharp pain tugging at her hair follicles. She reaches to scratch the pain away, but her scalp burns to the touch. A grimace forms on her chapped lips.  
  
Her feet slip off the rickety bed she laid upon, dragging her terror-ridden body to a nearby sink. She stares at the image in the mirror.  
  
The woman in the mirror has glowing eyes, akin to the ones in her dreams. Stars dappled along her dark hair, parted like the Avid Horizon's gates. Her face is the gateway to Heaven, and her eyebrows are the towering giant wings overlooking those that seek ascension.  
  
Such a godly image, yet it pains the host to stare at it.  
  
She looks away. 

* * *

  
_ [ramblings of a mad zee-captain.] _  
_ July 25th, 1888 _ .  
Aeternitas, you've gone mad! the crew said to me when I told them I wanted to go find the Dawn Machine. They throw around stories and rumors of what that infernal machine can do to someone. Many have gone insane and died of said insanity, apparently. I brush off their words.  
  
Even as a child, the stories and drawings I had seen of the Dawn Machine were intriguing to me. Terrifying, yet magnificent and beautiful. But what in the vast zee ISN'T magnificent yet terrifying? I believe the Dawn Machine is no exception. We've been to the Avid Horizon, I don't think we'll face much trouble if we keep a distance from the machine.  
  
[INVENTORY]  
Supplies: 8 ct. Fuel: 12 ct.  
  
_ August 3rd, 1888 _ .  
I told the crew that we will make our way to the naval base, Grand Geode, tomorrow. We are running low on supplies. They responded with concerned, weary eyes, and nod ever so slightly.  
  
Just a while ago, our first officer knocked at my door.  
  
"I hope you're not planning to take us to the Dawn Machine."  
  
I laughed and told her that it was a very stupid idea, and that I was no longer interested in such a machine. She was quiet for a bit, but said goodnight to me.  
  
The Dawn Machine is a short distance away from the Geode. I'm sure they're okay with a surprise sightseeing trip.  
  
[INVENTORY]  
Supplies: 2 ct. Fuel: 3 ct.  
  
_ August 4th, 1888 _ .  
We see the Grand Geode in the distance. Our crew is tired, and lean against the railing of the ship. I tell them to rest, and that I would handle things from here. Their sleep-deprived legs take them to the crew's quarters.  
  
Our first officer is asleep. I slipped laudanum into her tea earlier. I can't let her stop me.  
  
I steer the ship and make a sharp turn for the Machine.  
  
[INVENTORY]  
Supplies: 0 ct. Fuel: 1 ct.  
  
_ August 5th, 1888 _ .  
**THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUN THE SUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNSUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNSUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUNTHESUN**  
  
_ (Aeternitas' journal ends here. It sits at the bottom of the zee, left to rot, like her ship, The Proserpina, and its crew.) _

* * *

  
_ [burning canvases.] _  
The sole survivor wakes up again in her dusty flat in London again. It's dark, but everywhere in Fallen London is dark. The lights here aren't nearly as vibrant as the mechanical sun.  
  
Aeternitas doesn't stir from where she is in bed. She reaches for a paper bag underneath her bed, unwrapping it.  
  
_ 100... 200... 300... 400... 500... 600… _ she continues counting.  
  
Enough Echoes for a new ship.  
  
She wraps the bag up again and heads out to the Bazaar first, then to the ports.

In the back of her mind, she hears things. Incoherent, angry mumblings. She listens to them carefully, mesmerized, and frankly, a bit terrified. 

Aeternitas pushes onwards.  
  
A few hours later, Aeternitas is on a small ship. Hundreds of canvases and buckets of paint take up the spaces where crew members are supposed to reside. Enough food supplies for one person. Enough fuel for a one-way trip.  
  
Aeternitas doesn't name her new ship. Naming it _ Proserpina the Second _ would be an insult to her original corpse of a ship. So she leaves this ship nameless, forever bound to obscurity.  
  
The Sun-Plagued Captain sets her path to the sun again.  
  
En route she paints hundreds of Dawn Machines, with the completed ones staring at her from the walls of her cabin. With every single painting, she becomes more and more aware of how much the image of the Dawn Machine is scorched into her memory. Every circle, every gear, every part of its design is meticulously painted onto the canvases.

The mumblings of some unknown entity still plague her every day. She grows accustomed to them, knowing that they wouldn't be going away anytime soon. It is the least of Sun-Plagued Captain’s problems- the Sun is waiting.

A passing thought leads her to believe that it is not her own mind that wishes to go there. It is _ that _entity that compels her to.

  
With every passing day, the lone captain paints faster. Painting the Dawn Machine becomes ingrained into her muscle memory. She almost feels like she knows the Machine more than herself.  
  
The Sun-Plagued Captain doesn't remember what she looks like anymore. One day, she leans over the railings of her unnamed ship and stares into the zeewater.  
  
All she sees are two suns staring back.

* * *

  
  
_ [embrace.] _  
By the time the ship reaches the Dawn Machine's waters, the captain has finished painting all the canvases. The ship is covered with paintings of the infernal machines, and the captain has turned to using the remaining paint to make a mural in the cabin of the machine she is all too familiar with.  
  
"I didn't get a good look at you last time. Maybe this time I'll have a better view. Maybe I'll finally know what you're trying to say.”  
  
She watches as the sun inches closer to her. The rotating gears and burning flame are a familiar face now, and she smiles. Slowly, she walks to the bow of the ship, and reaches for the machine.  
  
It doesn't burn to the touch anymore. Her eyes have gotten accustomed to the light, and she is not satisfied- she needs to feel.  
  
The Sun-Plagued Captain walks to the very tip of the ship's bow, and reaches for the dawn. It etches promises onto her skin, and smelts gold into her veins. Finally, it imbues light into her body as she touches the purring machine.  
  
A wingless Icarus plunges.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't played fallen london in about a year or so but I got sunless sea recently -- this is my first fic I guess?
> 
> this was just originally random rambling because I keep bringing my zee-captains to the dawn machine hhahaha I'm cruel, so that was the basis for this. Aeternitas is my constantly reincarnated zee-captain so unfortunately for her, she's a tortured soul


End file.
